6/23/13

Lee made sure to be out of bed early before his mother woke.
Her heavy white thigh peeking out from under the gown that had bunched around
her waist in the night was the last thing he saw before slipping past her open bedroom
door. Previously, it had made him nauseous seeing his mother like that,
especially when he’d been forced to sleep in bed with her, but not recently.
Now it only made him angry. He’d been released from the Youth House three days
ago. He hadn’t said more than two words to her since he came home.

Home…

What a joke.

Stupid psychiatrist…

He ran up the stairs from the basement flat and out into the
dirty Bronx sunshine. The lively heat on his skin was a contradiction to the
coldness he was feeling beneath it and he continued running until he reached 183rd
Street where he ducked behind a pillar and breathed in heavily the smoky shade
of the subway terminal.It was May 10th, 1953. Mother’s Day.

He muttered to himself in a Texas accent as husbands and
children passed by, probably taking the moms out for their special day. Or to
church. Flowers and pretty hats and red lipstick and grotesque smiles.

I’m my own father… mother never gave a damn…

There were a dozen cigarette butts beneath Lee’s cowboy
boots when an elderly lady walked by, handing out pamphlets. He had no idea
what she was selling. On a whim, he reached out. He related to what he read.

6/16/13

An ashen-faced man stood on the curb at 1201 Pennsylvania
Avenue holding an umbrella. He scraped the frost from his watch to see that it was
nearly 10 pm. A late winter rain was beginning to fall.

A siren gave yelp from around the corner as red and blue streaks
splashed off the building’s shiny façade. A trio of Suburbans rolled up and the
passenger door of the middle vehicle opened and the man dove in. The motorcade roared
off, sirens blaring, leaving the man’s umbrella rolling in a puddle behind
them. It didn’t slow down until it reached the Emergency Entrance to George
Washington University Hospital some fifteen blocks away.

A few minutes later, another motorcade departed a mere four
blocks west of the previous one. It too double-parked at the hospital and two
men dashed inside. With jaws locked and fists clenched, the groups came face to
face at a feeble patient’s bed-side. After a few tense minutes of threats and
pointed fingers, Andrew Card and Alberto Gonzales departed, defeated.

Laws were “adjusted.” And after a private White House
meeting, Comey dropped his concerns. His ensuing private career was a charmed
one and he was even considered for the Supreme Court before being nominated as head
of the FBI. Incidentally, Alberto Gonzales quickly
replaced Ashcroft…